


Seventy-Six Kisses

by lumos_flies



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Fluff, kiss prompts, short and sweet, warnings are on individual prompts now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:41:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25956925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumos_flies/pseuds/lumos_flies
Summary: This is my side project- a 76 kisses prompt thing with Will Graham. I think we could all use some sweetness in this year.
Relationships: Will Graham/Reader
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	1. Chapter 1

**The Good Morning Kiss**

Mornings in the winter came cold and slowly in Wolf Trap, you had learned. Despite the mountains of blankets you slept with, the cold seeped into the bedroom and into your bones. It was your day off and so your eyelashes fluttered open as slow as the sun rise when you finally awoke. The bed was empty, and colder than usual, your fiancé not in his usual place next to you. You knew Will was most likely already gone for the morning, off running himself ragged with the FBI. At least the dogs were around, happy to take the space where Will had been and provide you with the warmth you lacked. A small sigh left your lips as you forced yourself out of the bed, gathering your robe and slippers on before you made your way downstairs. You were on the last step when a noise from the kitchen made you pause- the sound of the stove clicking on as someone turned the knob. A small fissure of terror ran through you— who would be here now? You cautiously made your way around the doorway and peeked in, your mood lightening when you saw it was Will, beginning to cook breakfast. You walked up behind him, trying to be as quiet as you could, but as soon as you were in arms reach he turned around, and gathered you into his arms. 

“Sneaking up on me, hmm?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips. 

“Not well,” you replied, a smirk returning his, before he pressed his lips to yours, lingering and searing, waking you better than any coffee could. 

“Good morning,” you said, after he had pulled away. 

“Good morning to you too,” he replied, the moment picture perfect until the smoke alarm sounded. 

**Forehead Kiss**  
Will was an uneasy sleeper, you had found. He tossed and turned and took ages to finally settle in bed. His work led him to the darkest parts of humanity, and the demons he found there chased into his sleep. He often woke you, shaking in his sleep, trying to run from the things he had seen in his dreams. 

Tonight was one of those nights, the nightmares that ran through his veins shaking the bed and you with him. You jerked awake, eyes scanning the room to confirm it was just you, and Will, and the dogs. Once you knew you were alone you turned in bed, eyes wracking up and down his body. There were tremors still running down him, small twitches in his sleep that belied the dreams he was having. 

“Will?” you whispered, trying to keep your voice soft, to keep the worry and concern out of it, “Will, wake up.” His face twisted, your voice reaching him but not waking him. You placed a hand on his shoulder, light as a feather and his body jerked as he escaped his mind. 

“Will, it’s only me,” you whispered again, leaning down so he could see your face clearly. You could see his eyes dart around and finally coming to rest on your face. His breathing slowed but the tremors remained as his eyes focused in on your face, tracing over it. His hand came up to cup at your cheek, and you pressed into it, a small confirmation that you were real. 

You allowed yourself to be brought down by him, just close enough for him to inhale the scent of you and press his lips to your forehead, a silent communion at the altar of your love. 

**Drunk/sloppy kiss**  
It was your third date with Will Graham, FBI wunderkid, and you were well and truly drunk. You hadn’t planned on becoming this drunk, but how were you to know that a Long Island Iced Tea contained only alcohol and no tea? Will was talking to you now, and you shook your head to come back to yourself. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, watching as you stumbled around him, trying to remain as seductive as possible. You wanted to kiss him, right on his plush mouth, and you felt like he needed to know this, right now. 

“I wanna kiss you,” you told him, your tone more sober than you felt. You stopped in front of him abruptly, and suddenly he was right there, crowded into your personal space. You could hear his breath hitch as he looked down at you. 

“You’re drunk,” he said, though it sounded like the words pained him, a perfunctory measure of being a gentleman. You pressed yourself closer, chest against chest, letting his arms wrap around you to keep you steady. His arms caged around you, warming you from the chill of the fall air around you. You let yourself be held by him, looking up through your eyelashes up at him. 

“Am I?” you whispered, pushing up on your toes to bring your mouth close to his. His eyes were nearly closed, simply enjoying the way your body felt molded to his. You breathed the same air for one, two, three seconds before you finally closed the gap and pressed your lips to his. 

A fire burned between you, underneath a street lamp, as the alcohol raced through your blood, making your head swim with the taste of Will. 

**Awkward Kiss**  
Things were tense in Jack Crawford’s office. You weren’t sure why you were there but with the way Will was gripping your hand, like you were the one thing tethering him to reality as Jack outlined the horror Will would have to delve into. The way Will’s hand held to yours held your whole body still, tenseness mirroring the people around you. You were the anchor keeping him from running screaming from the office, never to look back. 

Working for the FBI gave Will a sense of purpose, a drive to use the so-called gift he had been given, and put something back into the world that was even a little bit good. But you were the one who saw how it affected him at night, how he shuddered in the night as the nightmares chased at him. You wanted to beg him to stop, to go back to teaching full time, but he always brushed you off, insistent he would be able to handle it. 

“You have a few moments to say goodbye,” Jack said, and you shivered at the note of finality in his voice. You tried to ignore what it could mean, but it proved impossible when Jack continued on- “I suggest you take advantage of it.”

You turned in your chair, trying to face Will as much as you could, and ignored the way Jack lingered by the door. His impatience flavored the room, but all you could see were Will’s eyes, just shy of wild. You reached your hands up, cupping his cheeks, and gently pulled him close to you. You could feel the tension rolling through him. 

You tilted his chin up to press your lips to his, trying to push all the things you wanted to say to him into it. His hands covered yours, griping as tight as they could, despite the location and the audience. You pulled back, breathing slightly labored. 

“Come back to me,” you whispered. 

“Always,” Will replied, a promise, a lie.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOPS FORGOT THIS ONE EXISTED TOO. I have tried to warn at the start of each prompt what I think the major ones are- please let me know if something else needs a warning too!

**Angry Kiss**

**Warning: Pretend Anger**

“I can’t believe you started without me,” It’s rare you hear any sort of annoyance in your husband’s voice, but now the vitriol seeps through it completely. You raise one eyebrow at him, a soft challenge for him to continue on. 

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, darling,” You reply, trying to keep your voice soft and soothing. You knew exactly what he was talking about, but damn if you were going to give into him so easy. He knew you were goading him into a fight, and wanted to resist, but couldn’t at the mocking look on your face. 

“Netflix shows when you’ve already started to watch something!” The words explode from him, but they’re gentle enough you know he’s not truly mad. It doesn’t stop you from pouting as he continues on, “And I can clearly see you’ve started the finale of Great British Bake Off without me!”

“Oohhh, is that what you’re so upset about?” It’s hard to keep the teasing tone out of your voice, which only causes Will to glare at you more. It’s his turn to pout now as you burst into laughter, unable to maintain the facade of a fight with him any longer. You hold your arms out to him and he stomps his way over to where you’re resting on the couch. 

The kiss you two share is as sweet as the baked goods on the TV. 

**“I’m Sorry” Kiss**

**Warning: hospitals, mention of stabbing**

It wasn’t often your husband could drive you to get truly angry with him, but the one thing that could was his lack of care for himself. Will Graham seemed to care so much for everyone else in his life, but not one tick for himself, as evident by landing himself in the hospital yet again. This time he had chased after someone despite being told not to, and managed to get them. 

He had also managed to get stabbed, a fact that you would not let go of. 

“I’m fine, really,” He insisted to you as you sat in the chair across from his bed, “It missed anything vital. They’re only keeping me here because of procedure.”

“You were stabbed,” You hiss out, trying to keep your voice level, making sure the anger didn’t leak into it too much, “You could have died.”

“But I didn’t,” He shoots back, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You can’t stop the tears that gather in them as you think about how much could have gone wrong that he simply doesn’t want to think about. Once he sees your tears he says softly, “Come over here, love.”

Sniffling, you rise from your seat, leaning over him. He looks so small in the bed, you think, already so battered by the world. He takes your hand in his, and brings it up to his lips, pressing a kiss onto it. 

“I’ll be more careful,” He says, but you both know he’s lying. 

**“I’ve Missed You” Kiss**

**Warning: panic, mentions of a car accident**

There was nothing better than 6:17 pm in your opinion. It was the exact moment Will arrived home from work. He kept a strict schedule when he was leaving, specifically so he could get home to you as quickly as possible. 

The clock now read 6:18, and you pushed your worries aside- it was only a minute late. Perhaps he had hit a couple of red lights, or there had been an accident on the freeway. The dinner you’d made for him would still be hot on the table, even if he was a few moments late. 

At 6:30 you called him, your call going immediately to his voicemail. It was harder to push aside your worries now, but you remind yourself that he wouldn’t check his phone while driving. It would be set to reject all calls until he was safely at home again- he had done this so his work couldn’t bother him and call him back before he was with you. 

At 7 you called Jack Crawford, who swore up and down that he hadn’t kept Will late, and that your husband should be back on his way home to you. By this time dinner was cold on the table, and your hands wouldn’t stop shaking as you called Will over and over again. 

The phone fell to the ground with a sharp cracking noise when the door finally opened at 8pm. Will stood in the doorway, eyes tired and silently held out his arms to you. You rushed into them, holding him close and pressing soft kisses to his lips. 

“There was an accident,” He explained, his voice betraying his inner exhaustion, “My phone died while I was waiting. It looked, it looked real bad.” You can only nod as he explains it to you, only thinking about how happy you are to have him back in your arms again. 

**Seductive Kiss**

**Warning: Alcohol, puke**

Rarely, if ever, did you drink. You preferred to be in total control of yourself at all times, and despite how nice it was to loosen up with a drink or two, those two drinks could lead to several with your friends if you weren’t paying attention, and that always led to trouble. 

But now, it was New Year's Eve, and your best friend had convinced you to come out for drinks as to ring in the new year with her. You, in turn, brought your boyfriend Will with you. You knew he would stay sober, and ever watchful over you to make sure you didn’t go too crazy. 

At least, that had been the plan. 

Somehow between drinks three and four, he had slipped away from you. You turned to get his opinion on something, and he wasn’t there. It gave you a slight pause, but it wasn’t at the forefront of your mind. You figured he had probably just gone to the bathroom and hadn’t wanted to interrupt your conversation with your friends. 

It wasn’t until the minute countdown began, and after your fifth drink that you started to worry about him. Your drunken mind panicked- both that something had happened to him and, to a lesser extent, that you wouldn’t be able to kiss him at midnight. 

You pushed your way through the crowded bar, stumbling outside. Your head whipped left, and then to the right, finally seeing Will standing in the cold. You called his name and he turned to you, an apologetic look on his face. 

The final ten countdown had started, though, and you rushed over to him, cutting off his explanation right as you heard the crowd cry one. Your lips pressed to his, and his hands found your waist. He pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you as his tongue pressed into your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. You pulled back slightly from him, and you could see his pupils blown wide with lust. 

“You wanna get out of here?” He asked, his voice husky and soft. You nodded gently.

Before jerking back and throwing up directly on his shoes. 

Well, at least you had the rest of the year.


End file.
